


Hawke and the Hero

by RunawayDragons



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-28 22:42:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2749820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayDragons/pseuds/RunawayDragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warden-Commander Surana receives a plea for help from an old friend. She must travel to Kirkwall to help, and she meets some new friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

__

Lyn,

I need your help. Things are not as they should be. I know no one else to turn to. I pray that the Maker lets this note reach you. 

-Elsbeth

 

Vaelyn holds the small piece of parchment in her hand, reads it for the twentieth time and then starts pacing. Every time she comes to a wall she glances back down at the paper in her hand for a moment and then turns around with a swish of skirts and glowers at her feet again.

“If you stare at that floor much harder it may just go up in flames.”

Lyn looks up to discover Alistair giving her an amused look. She can’t help but smile at the very attractive man leaning against the doorframe of her study. As the years had gone by he’d only become more attractive, the hints of grey at his temples making him look even more distinguished. Alistair also made sure to never stopped drilling and practicing his sword skills, the result being he was possibly in even better physical shape than when they had fought the blight together. 

“You should know by now that I’m not big on flames, I prefer ice or lightning. I could put an ice patch right under your feet and watch you fall on your royal ass.”

Alistair’s golden brown eyes glint with mischief and humor, as he knows she won’t actually follow through with the threat. Lyn answers his look with an eye roll of impatience. 

“I take it by all the frustration rolling off of you, that you still haven’t decided what to do about your friend’s letter?”

“Oh, I’ve decided. I just don’t know quite how I’m going to pull it off. I think I’m going to have to call in a lot of favors...”

“I’m sure you’ll pull it off in heroic style, as is usual for you.”

Lyn’s grey eyes flick away from the letter to check Alistair’s face, as she half thought he was joking, but his expression tells her he means those words. His faith in her ability to resolve tense situations still never ceases to amaze her. There was so much on her plate these days, between the unrest in Orlais and her duties as Warden Commander. At least she wasn’t needed in Amaranthine or Vigil’s Keep as much. 

Alistair could see Lyn start to tense up again. He could practically see the wheels in her head whirring away at top speed. He knew she would be going to help her friend, even though it would most likely be dangerous. Lyn had changed a lot over the years, but her core values had stayed the same. That inner strength of character was something he had always loved about her, even though it quite often got her into some tight spots. He watches as she resumes her pacing, occasionally glancing at the letter in her hands. 

Vaelyn continues to pace for a few more minutes and then halts in the middle of the room and throws her hands up in the air. The sudden movement making some of her hair wisp out of the tight bun on the back of her head.

“No. You know what? I warned her. When the rumors started a few years ago and my sources told me that the conflict between the factions was getting dangerous I warned her. I told her to come back, that I would help her find a new position here. She’ll just have to lie in the bed she’s made. I’m not going to risk my neck for her, I have too much to do here.”

“Right.”

Alistair’s disbelieving tone makes her twitch self consciously and purposefully look away from him. He stands upright and comes up behind her before clasping one of her shoulders in each of his hands. His warm grasp makes her turn and face him, a bit shamefaced. Alistair levels one of his classic looks at her, one eyebrow quirked. She stares back at him defiantly for a few moments and then breaks down, letting loose a groan. 

“Alright, fine. I’m not going to abandon her. I’m going to go to Kirkwall with a small band of my people and go save her ass.”

“And why are you going to do that?”

“Because she’s my friend and I know she needs my help.”

“That’s my dragoness. Feel better now?”

As his old pet name for her leaves his lips, he freezes, she looks up into his face and sees it, that glimpse of old heartache and the tempting thought of what could have been. She smiles quickly, and speaks, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"Ah, I feel delightful, thank you my liege, for your excellent guidance."

Her words are drenched with forced humor, but the smile on her lips doesn't quite reach her eyes. If Alistair notices, he doesn't give a sign, he just playfully bows as he retreats. 

Alone, Vaelyn lets her body slump, chin touching her chest as she glances once more at the note from Beth. The weight of all the could-have-beens bears down on her already heavy mind. 


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter 2-

“You know you still owe me five sovereigns, elf.”

“I’m good for it.”

“So you think you can win the coin from Isabela? Good luck with that.”

Mera glances over her shoulder at her companions and stifles a sigh.

“I heard that, Hawke.”

“Heard what, Varric?”

“Oh please, you’re not fooling anyone.”

Mera turns to give Varric an annoyed glare but freezes instead, as her eyes catch sight of furtive movements in the shadows behind their little group. Oddly enough, whoever it is seems to be moving away from them. Intrigued, she stays still and focuses her senses on listening for anything that might be of interest. 

Fenris and Varric watch her, waiting to see what she wants to do. Mera just about decides that it’s nothing when Douglas’ hackles rise and he starts to growl quietly. Knowing that her hound can smell and hear things she can’t, she wraps a hand around the staff on her back and glances at Fenris who shrugs before speaking.

“More of the Reining Men, perhaps?”

“Perhaps.... Or it’s a parade!”

A barely audible groan issues from the white haired elf at Mera’s awful sarcasm. She gives him a saucy wink, then forges ahead, heading towards the lower parts of Kirkwall’s docks. The last two nights had been spent cleaning up the newest group of thugs trying to control the area. As Champion it is her job to protect the city, although most of the threat comes from within these days.

As they get closer to the water, sounds of fighting can be heard. Varric takes Bianca out and gives Mera a nod that he’s ready, a glance at Fenris shows that he is as well. Mera takes a deep breath to center herself, then turns the corner, her magic ready and waiting. 

The sight of about twenty Reining Men attacking a party of four heavily armed fighters, and the largest mabari hound Mera has ever seen, greets her. The strangers’ armor is of high quality, one is obviously a dwarf, who is wielding a large axe while hollering a battlecry. She notices that another warrior fights with two blades, keeping the dwarf’s back covered while the last two strange fighters hang back using their bows. 

Without further pause, Mera begins casting spells in order to assist the strangers. Fenris roars his battle cry and charges into the fray with Douglas barking and running next to him. Just as Fenris begins slicing his massive weapon through two thugs, Varric starts firing Bianca. The dual wielding warrior fights back to back with the dwarf, spinning, slicing and stabbing with practiced perfection. The grace of the warrior’s movements suggests that it’s most likely an elf, granted that the fact that the warrior looks to be only about five foot four is also a bit of a giveaway.

The combined efforts of Mera’s party and that of the strangers quickly lays the band of thugs to waste. Mera can’t help but be impressed by the skill shown by the small band of warriors. As soon as the last foe drops, Mera steps forward and stops beside Fenris, who is still holds his sword at the ready. The strange dwarf notes the elf’s threatening posture and keeps his axe raised, a hint of battle light still evident in his eyes, the two archers and the mabari hound stand at the ready as well. Mera notes that they all seem to be keeping an eye on the warrior across from her, which tells her that they must be the one in command. 

“Stand down, there will be no more fighting for the moment.”

The voice is muffled by the heavy helm the warrior is wearing, but the command in it is none the less firm. The dwarf lowers his axe and gives a nod to the hound, who sits and begins to pant happily. Both of the archers un-nock their arrows and move back into the shadows. The warrior with the dual swords then steps forward and slowly sheaths their weapons. A gauntlet covered hand raises to lift the visor of the blood spattered helm. Mera is surprised to find herself staring into the steady gaze of a woman. Steel grey eyes framed by purple painted eyelids and faint crow’s feet stare back at Mera’s inquisitive blue ones. Doing her best to hide her surprise, Mera smiles and performs a dramatic bow, complete with hand flourish.

“Welcome to peaceful and stoic Kirkwall!”

“Thank you, lovely people you have here.”

Mera is surprised at the equally sarcastic tone from the woman, the irony making her chuckle. Fenris relaxes slightly at the sound of her laughter and lowers his blade. The woman with the swords inspects Mera’s party with only the slightest bit of interest while Mera laughs, and seems completely unsurprised by Mera’s unusual companions. 

Mera steps forward and offers a hand in introduction, the woman extends her own to meet it. But before their hands meethe woman changes tactics and flings the arm out, lightning exploding from her fingertips. The blast streaks just to the right of Mera’s head, just barely missing her, the crackling energy making her hair stand on end. Instinct kicks in and Mera calls her magic forth to counter with a spell of her own but she hears a scream just behind her and i causes her to pause. The scream is quickly followed by the thud of a body falling to the ground. Confused, Mera glances over her shoulder, only to find a Reining Men assassin twitching as the last bits of life leaves his body. Realizing that the woman just saved her or one of her companions from being stabbed, Mera lets go of the spell on her fingertips. A glance to her left to finds Fenris has his sword poised to strike, a look of extreme disgust on his face.

“Mage.”

The word slips from his lips loaded with loathing, but he says no more. Mera is rather shocked upon the revelation that the elvhen woman is a mage. Questions swirl around her head, the biggest one being: why would a mage fight with blades? She can’t seem to hide her feelings of surprise and curiosity.

“Well I certainly didn’t see that coming..”

The woman raises her hands in a show of peace and gives a shrug of her shoulders, making sure to make eye contact with Fenris as she speaks.

“Yes I’m a mage, but would you prefer that your friend here got stabbed?”

“It’s alright Fenris.”

Mera uses her best calming tone and Fenris gives her a questioning look before stepping back to lower his weapon once again. He may trust Mera, but that doesn’t mean he’s willing to give any other mage the benefit of the doubt.

“I think some introductions are in order.” Mera's words are framed as a request, but the weight behind them says more. 

The woman gives Mera an assessing look and then sighs before she pulls the helm from her head, shaking her hair loose once it is free. Brown hair tied back at the temples falls to the women’s shoulders and even though she looks not all that much older than Mera, she has hints of grey mixed in with the brown. Mera can’t help but do a mental shout of triumph when she sees the woman’s pointy elven ears. She totally knew that she was an elf! The woman ties her helm to a leather thong hanging at her waist before turning her attention back to Mera.

“I’ll happily tell you my name once we’re somewhere less open. I’m here to help a friend and I’d hate for the wrong people to know I’ve arrived, just yet.”

“Alright, just answer one question first. How does a mage learn how to fight with swords like that?”

The elven woman gives Mera a quick smile and shrugs again.

“Oh I picked up a few things here and there.” The gray eyes twinkle as she speaks. 

“Wow Hawke, I think we just met your match in the art of evading the question.” 

Varric's words are full of amusement.

“Just for that Varric, we’re using your room at The Hanged Man to talk and everything is going on your tab.”

Varric shrugs and starts walking. Mera gestures for the elven woman and the rest of her party to follow Varric towards the stairs up to Lowtown. The only two who seem oblivious to the slight tension in the air are the hounds, who seem to have already struck up a friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

-chapter 3-

once settled in varric's room, mera leans against the wall and studies the newcomers. the elven woman cleans her blades with loving care, using a rag obtained from one of the serving women. one blade is curved with a blue leather wrapped hilt. From across the room Mera can feel that it’s not a normal blade, it seems to radiate magic. The other blade is made of silverite and seems somewhat unremarkable but the woman treats it as if it is a treasure beyond worth. The pair of archers stand immobile against the back wall, and now that Mera can get a better look at them she’s intrigued. One is female and the other male. The female is slightly taller than the male, but the male has dalish tattoos on his face. Both wear high quality drakescale armor, and dark grey cloaks. Once Varric comes back into the room and shuts the door behind him, Mera steps away from the wall before addressing their guests.

“Alright, Varric’s made sure there are no prying ears outside the door. How about those introductions now?”

The woman raises her eyebrows and gives Mera a look of genuine amusement. She finishes wiping her blade clean, taking her time doing so, before answering.

“My name is Vaelyn. The dwarf is my good friend Oghren. The other two are Alburt and Arithra. And then there is Dane, of course.”

Each of Vaelyn’s companions gives a curt but polite nod as they are introduced. At the mention of his name, the massive hound barks happily and wags his little tail. Mera can’t help but be impressed by the huge mabari who seems to be about twice the size of Douglas. 

“As I mentioned before, I’m here to help a friend. Now then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know your names.”

A friendly smile graces the elf’s lips but her eyes are cold and hard, making it clear that she will not be divulging any more information until she receives some in return. Mera has the distinct impression that this woman is force to be reckoned with. A feeling in her gut makes her very glad that they aren’t enemies. 

“I’m Mera but most people call me Hawke. My dwarven friend is Varric. Fenris is the brooding one with the huge sword, and Douglas is my hound. Lovely to meet you, Vaelyn.”

“Wait a sodding minute. You’re Hawke? I thought you were supposed to be a blond and have a bigger chest.”

Mera is completely caught off guard by the red haired dwarf’s surprised outburst. Before she can answer however, the door opens loudly and Isabela strides in with a pitcher of ale in one hand, a bunch of mugs in the other, and a look of completely unconvincing innocence on her face. She kicks the door shut behind her and makes her way over to the table with her best saucy sway. 

“I thought you might want a drink Hawke... Oh, you have company, I didn’t know...”

Mera tries to give Isabela a stern look but ends up just shaking her head in resignation. 

“Stowe it Rivaini, nobody is going to believe that act. Just bring that over here and hand me a mug.”

Isabela chuckles and does as Varric asks. Mera is certain that the pirate’s curiosity had gotten the better of her once again. Just as she puts the pitcher down in the center of the table Isabela gets a good look at the woman sitting across from where she’s standing. Vaelyn meets Isabela’s gaze with a slight smile, then gives the pirate a wink. 

“Oh!”

“I see you survived fleeing the blight. Good for you, Isabela.”

Mera can’t help but look surprised that Vaelyn seems to know her pirate friend. She just stands there, shocked for a moment, waiting for her brain to start functioning again. Isabela seems to know a lot of people, so Mera’s not sure why she’s so surprised. Varric is at full attention now, ready to mentally record everything. Isabela sits herself on the edge of the table and gives Vaelyn one of her best charming smiles.

“Thanks, things got a bit sticky for a bit, but I managed. Lost my ship but that’s how things go.”

“Sorry about your ship, I know how important she was to you. You seem to be keeping decent company these days.” Vaelyn's condolences are genuine, which seems to touch Isabela. 

“They’re not a bad lot once you get to know them. Ooh, you still with that delicious blond? I’ve always thought we could have had a whole bunch of fun that night at The Pearl.”

“Ha! I’d almost forgotten about that. I’ve never liked sharing my favorite toys, sorry Isabela. As for the blond, things became rather complicated. We're still friends.”

Vaelyn and Isabela continue to exchange pleasant small talk for a few minutes, completely at ease with each other. The only one who doesn’t seem surprised by their easy banter is Oghren, who is instead very engrossed in the ale Isabela had brought. Varric at first stays relaxed in his chair but as their conversation continues he begins leaning forward, listening with growing intensity to every word that Vaelyn shares with Isabela. It’s when they start talking about an Antivian assassin that his patience breaks. 

“Alright, I can’t take it anymore! Who are you? You know Isabella and you’ve heard of Hawke. You’re obviously somebody with some weight, because you got into the city at night without being noticed by the City Guard or the templars. So you obviously have enough connections to have people look the other way.”

Isabela chuckles at Varric and hands him a mug of ale. 

“Poor Varric, he cannot stand not being in the know.”

Vaelyn smiles at Isabela, then turns her attention to the antsy dwarf at the head of the table.

“I’m afraid that I can’t reveal my contacts, sorry, Varric, was it? I met Isabella in Denerim during the blight. She was actually one of the people who started me on the path of dual wielding. And as for knowing who Hawke is, she helped out a friend of mine once so I made sure I didn’t forget her name. Although I suppose most people call her Champion these days.”

Something niggles at the back of Mera’s brain while Vaelyn speaks. It takes her a few minutes to figure out what it is, but once she finally does everything starts to make sense. She steps away from the wall and takes the seat across from Vaelyn and studies the woman carefully. Her brown hair has some grey strands mixed in even though the woman must not be older than thirty, add the steely grey eyes and the air of command and you get...

“You’re the Hero of Ferelden. The Warden-Commander of Ferelden.”

“She’s pretty smart for a human, eh, boss?”

Vaelyn smiles at her friend, before returning her gaze to Mera, with what looks to be a twinkle of approval in her eyes.

“Ye as my dwarven companion has now given away, you are correct in your conclusions.”

“Maker! The Hero of Ferelden here? In my room? Nobody’s going to believe it!” Varric looks genuinely stunned that a figure of such storied significance is sitting at his table. 

“I’d appreciate it if your friend could not mention our being here until we’ve completed our business, Hawke.”

Mera gives Varric her best “calm the fuck down” look and waits until he’s visibly calmed to say anything.

“No problem. So why the big secret?”

“Because, unless I’ve been incorrectly informed, there is some tension regarding the relationship between the mages and templars in this city.”

“Ah, so I take it your business has something to do with either the templars or the mages? Or perhaps both?”

“You could say that, yes. A dear friend of mine sent me a letter requesting my help. She’s a mage.”

At the mention of another mage, Mera can feel Fenris tense behind her. Everything these days seems to boil down to something to do with either the templars or the mages. Mera had tried to stay out of it by staying neutral, but it was getting harder and harder not to pick sides. It didn’t help any that Grand Cleric Elthina was doing her best not to be involved, which left Mera in charge of keeping the peace between the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. 

“I hate to have to ask this, but is your friend a bloodmage by any chance?”

Mera is happy to note that Vaelyn seems honestly surprised by the question, but none the less doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“No, she is not a bloodmage. Bloodmagic goes against everything Beth believes in. She’s a healer and creation spell specialist. Much better at defensive spells rather than offensive. I take it that bloodmages are a problem in Kirkwall?”

“Well, unfortunately, some have turned to bloodmagic in desperation, and it’s not reflecting well on the rest of the mages in the circle.”

Varric cuts in, “Blondie might know who to talk to in order to help her friend, Hawke.”

“Who’s Blondie?” Vaelyn's gaze quickly turning back to Mera. 

“A friend of mine who is usually very willing to help mages in need, which is why Varric mentioned him. We can go talk to him tomorrow, but I’d recommend letting me do the talking, as he can get a bit sensitive. He has some unusual... uh, quirks.”

Vaelyn nods in understanding, and stays silent for a minute before trying to hide a small yawn. Mera suddenly realizes that it must be almost three o’ clock in the morning, and that Vaelyn must be even more tired than she is. Her mother would be ashamed of her for keeping up someone as important as Vaelyn after traveling all this way.

“Maker! Please excuse me for keeping you talking, you must be exhausted! I’m sure you want to get some sleep.”

“Yes, if you don’t mind, a bed would be lovely. Do you think they might have some empty rooms here, for my companions and I?”

“I’m sure they do. Isabela could you please check?”

“Sure, sweet thing.”

In ten minutes Mera has the Warden Commander and her people situated in one of The Hanged Man’s larger rooms. After telling her how to find the Hawke Estate, Mera leaves the Wardens to get some sleep, reassured by Varric that the staff of the Hanged Man will see to all their needs. 

Fenris follows her home, acting as if they’ll part at the door, but Mera suspects otherwise. The dark Hightown streets are quiet and crime free for the moment. Mera slips into the front hall and is glad to see that neither Bodahn or Orana stayed up waiting for her. Doug curls up happily on the rug in front of the fire as she makes her way on tip toes to her room.

It’s not until her bedroom door is firmly shut that Fenris finally speaks. 

“She is not what I was expecting.”

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Warden-Commander Vaelyn?”

“Yes.”

“I know what you mean. She wasn’t exactly what I expected either.”

Mera stays in thoughtful silence as she washes her face in the ewer on her nightstand and finishes changing into her night-clothes. Fenris stows his sword under the edge of her bed and then climbs under the sheets after peeling out of his armor. After drying her face, Mera joins him, laying her head on his chest gently and wrapping an arm around his middle, careful that each touch is gentle. His voice rumbles up from his chest, tickling her ear. 

“I knew that she is a mage, as all the stories mention that. And also that she is an elf. But I had no idea that she would be so....”

“Normal?”

“That isn’t exactly it. I expected her to lord her magic and power over people like a magister does. However, she does not do that. She is certainly in command, but it is a command born out of respect, not fear.”

“Hmm... I’m still trying to understand how she fights so well with those swords. Daggers wouldn’t surprise me, but two longswords? I couldn’t handle two longswords at a time and I’m taller than her.... it’s mind boggling.”

“She handles them well, and is very effective fighting with them. I will be interested to see her fight more.”

“Do I hear a hint of respect in your voice, Fenris?”

Mera lifts her head off of his chest to look at his face, firelight illuminating only half of it.He frowns at her and then lets out a frustrated sigh, tinted with resignation.

“Yes, alright? She may be a mage, but she is obviously more than that. All the stories about her must have at least some truth in them, and not be all lies. If she’s done even half of the things they say she has, then she has done much to earn my respect.”

“Andraste's knickers. Hard to believe you’re the same magic hating elf I met all those years ago.” A soft giggle follows her words. 

Fenris’ only answer is to snort and close his eyes. Mera lowers her head back to his chest and focuses on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It’s a rare treat to have him to hold in her own bed, as most nights he stays at his mansion. 

After her mother’s death, Fenris had started showing up most mornings to have breakfast with her. Those first few weeks he’d had to literally drag her from bed. He’d make sure she ate, then let her slink back to her room. Even looking back now, she can’t remember individual days, just one big long period of pain and darkness. Fenris had made sure to check on her every day. Later on she found out that he’d actually teamed up with her other friends to keep her affairs in line. They’d patrolled the streets and kept order in the city, making it seem as if Kirkwall’s Champion was still interested in the city, and not in fact an emotional wreck, curled up in a ball, on her bed. Aveline, Donnic and Varric had played interference and kept well wishers from disturbing her until she was ready. 

Some of the things that had started during that horrible time stuck, and became traditions. Fenris shows up for breakfast most mornings, sometimes even doing the cooking. Once a month all of Mera’s friends show up for Sunday dinner. The dinners are never dull, and Mera loves the chaos of it, as you never know what is going to come up in the conversation. One night all they talked about was how they get the tiny ships in bottles, another night there was a massive argument about what a large group of deepstalkers is called. 

Only one person is conspicuous by his absence. Carver never writes and never visits. Mera sometimes wonders if she imagined him showing up at Mother’s funeral. She tried visiting him a couple of times but was always told he was unavailable. She’d stopped sending letters last year, but still sent a small gift on his birthday, because that’s what Bethany and Mother would have wanted her to do. 

“Stop it.”

Fenris’ sleepy growl startles Mera.

“What?”

“You’re thinking about your brother again...there is no point in making yourself miserable.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Really? Because you only tense like that while nibbling on your lip, when you’re thinking about him. I must have been mistaken.” The last sentence is ended with a snort derision. 

Mera forces her body to relax and releases her lower lip from between her teeth before letting out a small sigh. 

“That’s better. Get some sleep.”

Mera lets her eyelids drift shut and finally lets herself sink into sleep, the last thing she feels is Fenris shifting so he can wrap an arm around her, that movement instantly allows her to sleep, as of just his arm can keep her safe through anything.


	4. Chapter 4

-Chapter 4-

“Rise and shine, boss.”

Vaelyn cracks open an eyelid to find Oghren standing over her with a steaming mug of something that smells like bad coffee.

“Ugh, get that foul brew away from me. You know I cannot stand that stuff!”

The dwarf chuckles at her and moves to the other side of the room where Alburt and Arithna are in the process of pulling on the last of their armor. Lyn throws back the covers and makes a frustrated noise as her feet touch cold floorboards. Oh what she’d give for a nice hot bath right about now. By the time she’s up, dressed in her armor, and somewhat presentable, the others seem more than ready to leave. 

Lyn notices that Alburt is looking uneasy and gives him her best reassuring smile. There were plenty of others she could have brought with her on this errand, but in the end, she’d chosen Alburt and Arithna because she has a soft spot for the them. She’d recruited Arithna from the Circle in Ferelden. An extremely bright young woman with a talent for irritating her teachers. Arithna was eager to join the Wardens and had only requested help finding her family in return. 

It had taken Lyn a lot of effort, but eventually they found Arithna’s mother dying in the Denerim’s alienage from a wasting sickness. Arithna’s mother died soon after they’d found her. Lyn was surprised to find that the young mage was half Dalish and that she had an older half brother who was all Dalish. Alburt had been working for the Blackstone Irregulars in an attempt to earn money to pay for a better doctor for his mother. Lyn had helped the siblings bury their mother and had not been terribly surprised when Alburt had asked to join the Wardens as well. Both had survived the Joining and after spending some time learning how to fight the darkspawn in the deep roads, under Nathanial Howe’s command, they now go most places with Lyn, as close to bodyguards as she will allow. 

If you look closely at the siblings, you notice that both have the same shade of light blond hair, the same green eyes a similar nose, otherwise however they are much different. Arithna is taller than her brother by an inch or two, with rounder face and skin a few shades paler from her early life being spent in the tower. Alburt’s pointed ears and Elgar’nan vallaslin make it very obvious that he is an elf. Neither sibling talks much, which suits Lyn just fine. Oghren occasionally jokes around and calls Lyn their “auntie”, but then shuts up when Lyn gently whacks him over the head with whatever book she is holding at the time.

“So where to first, boss?”

“Hawke’s Estate, I suppose. She said she had that friend who might be able to help. I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible, for as long as possible.”

“Right. You have any idea where we’re going.”

“Yes, I memorized a map of the city, remember?”

“If we get lost in this stinking city....”

“Oh that’s enough Oghren! Move your ass out that door without saying another word.”


	5. Chapter 5

-Chapter 5-

A hard knock at the front door sends Doug into a barking frenzy and Bodahn into action. Mera was enjoying a breakfast of toast, fresh fruit and bacon at the kitchen table while looking over the newest batch of invitations sent to the glorious Champion of Kirkwall. A great deal of commotion, and what sounds like an excited cry from Bodahn, drifts through the doorway. 

“Must be the Warden-Commander. Didn’t Bodahn say once that he knew her?”

Looking up from an invitation to some stupid hunt in Orlais, Mera gives Fenris a look that clearly says “I don’t remember” and then goes back to trying to decipher the fancy script on the bright orange card in her hand. Fenris watches the doorway while eating a piece of toast. He’s not terribly surprised by Mera’s apparent lack of interest. She never was a morning person to begin with, and that hadn’t changed at all since they’d resumed their relationship. Leandra had always told him that there was no point in trying to talk to her eldest child in the mornings unless you came bearing hot tea and something covered in butter.

“Mistress Hawke! You have visitors!”

“Bring them into the kitchen Bodahn.”

Bodahn ushers Vaelyn and the rest of her party into the kitchen with nervous hand movements. Vaelyn gives the anxious dwarf a smile in an obvious attempt to calm him.

“How’s Sandal, Bodahn?”

“Good as ever, Commander! Good as ever.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.”

An awkward silence fills the room, Bodahn looks helplessly in Mera’s direction. Having only gotten about five hours of sleep, Mera is having a hard time feeling like doing anything, let alone have a serious conversation with the Warden-Commander, but she takes pity on Bodahn.

“Thank you for showing our guests in, Bodahn. I’ve got it covered from here.” A yawn leaves her mouth as she flaps a hand in a lazy dismissal. 

“Thank you, Mistress. Just yell if you need me.”

Bodahn quickly exits, leaving Mera in charge of their guests,  
“Have a seat Warden Commander. There’s a pot of tea on the table, food on the counter, if you and your companions are hungry.”

“Thank you Champion, you’re very kind to share your breakfast with us. I hope we haven’t arrived too early.” Dressed in dusty traveler's clothes, the Warden looks even smaller. 

“Call me Hawke, and don’t worry, I’m used to people showing up at all hours. One of the perks of the job, you could say.”

“Alright, but if I have to call you Hawke you should call me Vaelyn.”

“Fair enough.”

Mera finishes reading all the invitations while the Wardens break their fast. In the light of day, Mera finds that Vaelyn doesn’t look much different. The Hero of Ferelden seems to be only a few years her senior, at the most, despite the grey hairs. Whispered words catch her ear, and she’s surprised to find that the two archers from the night before are speaking elvhen quietly to each other, even though one of them seems to be human, due to the ears. Merrill would know what they are saying, but she rarely leaves her house anymore. Maybe the new arrivals could coax her away from that damned mirror for awhile?

“So where is this friend of yours located? Is he in the city?”

Mera switches her gaze from the pair of archers to Vaelyn, as she is addressed by their leader.

“He’s in the under-city, known as Darktown. The sewers beneath this city house more people than rats.”

“I’ve heard of Darktown. If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave some of my party here, as too big of a group might draw too much attention down there.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Good. Alburt and Arithna, you two will stay here then.”

“Aye, Commander.” The two answer, in union. 

It would certainly be interesting to see what Vaelyn’s reaction to the undercity will be. Mera had done her best to funnel money and food down there, but it still was a place full of despair, and desperate people.

“Well it’s settled then. Fenris, will you be coming?”

“If you don’t need me, Hawke, I’d rather not. I have some things of my own to attend to.”

Mera tries not to feel disappointed, but doesn’t succeed. Everything seems to be better when Fenris is nearby, even though she knows he has his own life to manage, she can’t help but not like it when he leaves her to take care of his own things. Carver had always said she was too clingy.She gives him a bright smile, shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, keeping her true feelings to herself.

“No problem.”


	6. Chapter 6

-Chapter 6-

“So, I couldn’t help but notice that you have a mabari too.”

Vaelyn hates small talk but the silence is killing her. They’d been walking for the last ten minutes in a semi-tense quiet. Dane and Mera’s hound were forging ahead, while Oghren, Lyn and Mera stayed together.

“Yes, Douglas has been with my family since he was a puppy. He was supposed to be my mother’s dog but he ended up bonding with me instead. He helped us escape Lothering during the blight.”

“Ah, I see. Dane’s been with me since Ostagar.” 

The mention of that place sends a chill of old pain up Mera's spine. 

“We’re almost there. Let me do the talking, as the Wardens are a bit of a touchy subject with my friend.”

“Lovely.”

“Don’t take it too personally, as in all honestly, most topics are a touchy subject with him these days.”

The truth is that Mera isn’t sure how Anders is going to react to seeing Grey Wardens. He’d been friends with Mera for quite awhile now and still wouldn’t really tell her anything about his life before Kirkwall. It annoyed Mera, but she wasn’t going to push it when Justice was always simmering just below the surface. Anders would tell her more about himself when he was ready, and no sooner. Her relationship with Fenris had cost her some of Ander's openness. 

It only takes them a few more minutes of walking before they end up on on the doorstep of Anders’ clinic. Mera opens one of the doors and pokes her head in cautiously. No patients seem to be waiting and both examination tables are empty. Anders lifts his head from the book on his desk and gives Mera a surprised smile upon recognizing her. 

“Hello Hawke, what brings you down here?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Someone needs some help and I thought you could help. You know me, I can never turn anybody with a sad story away! You have a minute to talk with her?”

“Sure, bring her in.” His attention quickly returns to the parchment before him.

Mera steps back out, and waves for Lyn and Oghren to follow her into the clinic. Anders has his back to them, while he stuffs some papers into the book he’d been looking at. 

 

“Wow, look at all of those feathers! Never thought I’d see that much bird fluff on someone’s shoulders again! Boss, doesn’t he remind you of....”

Oghren’s voice drifts off as Anders spins around and looks at the two people standing next to Mera. He freezes with a mixture of fear, anger, and sadness, in his eyes. Mera glances between Anders and Vaelyn and feels the bottom drop out of her stomach when the Warden opens her mouth.

“Anders?”

Lyn cannot believe her eyes, even as she lets his name escape from her lips. Of all the people she thought she’d meet in Kirkwall, he was certainly not one of them. He’s a little more gaunt, but otherwise seems to be in good health. Lyn wants to shout with joy at finding her old friend alive, but the look in his eyes keeps her from saying anything.

“Finally come to drag me back, Commander?” His voice is eerily cold, ged with something that crackles with waiting power.

“What? Drag you back? What are you talking about,Anders? I’m just happy to see you in one piece!”

Confusion flickers across his face, as Lyn sounds genuinely surprised, but it quickly returns to a look of deep anger.

“I’m talking about the Wardens betraying me to the templars. I trusted you and the other Wardens, and all it got me was new jailers.”

Mera takes a step back, not wanting to get stuck between the angry Anders, and his former Commander. Vaelyn looks shocked at first, but now the shock has been replaced with a cold and emotionless mask. Somehow this is far more unsettling than Anders' anger. 

“I never did such a thing, and you, of all people, should know that I would never send the templars for you. I cannot believe you would even accuse me of such, after everything I did for you.”

“Lies!” That energy in the back of his throat adds weight to the anger.

“You see here, you worthless nug-humper! Lyn had nothing to do with those sodding templars! Of all the stupid shit you’ve come up with, this takes the sodding cake!”

Ander’s anger seems to be bordering on rage now, and it’s focus has been transferred from Vaelyn to the red haired dwarf who had stormed to his Commander's side.

“Silence Oghren! You would do anything to protect her, so why should I believe you?”

“Because she spent a whole blighted year searching for you, hoping that the templars hadn’t finished the job they’d tried to start when she recruited you!” 

“If she cared so much then why did she let them take Pounce away?”

“I did not. When I found out they made you get rid of Pounce I was furious. I gave you that cat.”

Mera steps even farther back as Lyn hurls her eerily cold words at Anders. All the anger mixed with familiarity makes her feel like she’s stuck in the same room with Carver and her father during one of their fights. 

“What about Rolan? Wasn’t he supposed to be my keeper? Isn’t that why you had him join the Wardens?”

“If I thought you needed a keeper, would I have left you in charge of the defenses of the Vigil with Oghren? Rolan was just another Warden. I accepted him into the Wardens thinking that his templar skills would be useful against the remaining Disciples.”

With every firm word from Vaelyn, Anders seems to deflate a little bit. What really impresses Mera is Vaelyn’s ability to keep almost all emotion out of her voice, making every word sound like a cold hard fact, rather than an opinion or belief. It seems obvious to Mera that the Warden-Commander isn’t lying, but then, Mera’s better than most at reading people.

“But the templars.... You weren’t there, and I was certain it was to make it easier for them to retrieve me.”

“Anders, I would never let the templars take a mage from my ranks. I don’t give a sod-all for the Chantry, and their laws. Just ask anyone, it still causes King Alistair problems. I had duties to take care of, that was all.”

The rage completely disappears from Anders' face as Vaelyn’s words sink into his brain. He seems to shrink a little as the fight seeps from his body, his shoulders drooping in exhaustion. Vaelyn lets her tone soften a little and steps closer to the haggard looking mage. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop them, Anders. So very, very sorry. If it’s any consolation, when I found out what happened to Pounce, I knocked some heads together and then went and got him. He lives half the year at the Vigil and the other half at the palace. He has everyone wrapped around his little paw and they feed him far too much. He’s grown quite fat.”

Anders manages to hold it together until Lyn mentions Pounce. When Lyn sees his face begin to crumple, she quickly steps forward with arms open. Mera is shocked to see that Anders lets himself be hugged, and even hugs the elf back, with a strangled sob. A muffled “thank you” can be heard as Anders pulls himself together. 

“Well then, I guess it’s safe to say that you two know each other.” Mera realizes she has has been holding her breath, ready for a completely different conclusion to their argument.

“Heh, you have no idea lady. The shit the boss went through for recruiting him! And then when he disappeared with nothing but a bunch of bodies and a burning forest left behind... she said he must have been attacked and that it was the templars’ fault! Oh boy, was the Chantry mad at her!”

Mera looks down at Oghren and gives him a skeptical look. The dwarf gives her a big smile and chuckles.

“Oh aye, I know how mad it sounds, but it’s true. I think the only thing the Chantry in Ferelden fears more than their Maker, is the wrath of the Warden-Commander. She made a lot of friends in high places during the blight. A lot of people owe her their lives, and she’s not afraid of cashing in favors when needed.”

Vaelyn inturrupts before her friend can continue, “That’s enough Oghren. Go guard the doors and keep anyone from listening in.”

“Bah, fine. Not like I wanted to be part of the conversation anyway. You coming with, mutt?” 

“Woof!” replies Dane, with a tail wag for good measure.

Mera watches as the dwarf steps outside with Lyn’s hound following at his was heels. After a moment the doors shut and she’s left alone with the Warden-Commander, Anders and her faithful, napping, Doug. Vaelyn waits for Anders to get himself organized before speaking. 

“The reason I’m here is I got a note from a friend asking for help. After the blight she was offered a position as an enchanter at the Circle in Ostwick. She was happy there, and we exchanged regular letters for years. Then, last year, things changed. She was asked to transfer to the Circle here in Kirkwall. Her letters dwindled and then stopped completely. After months of silence, a note made it’s way to me through some odd channels. I’ve been hearing the rumors about your problems here, and I’m worried she got caught in the middle of the conflict between your Knight Commander and First Enchanter.”

“It’s Beth, isn’t it.”

Anders looks at Lyn, a sad expression on his face, as he mentions her friend, sending a chill through her heart at his tone of finality. 

“Yes, and by that look on your face, I’m guessing things are even worse here then I had feared.”

Mera answers, “They’re certainly not a picnic. Meredith and Orsino have been fighting like an old married couple for years now. Grand Cleric Elthina won’t step in and help, and to make matters worse the city is still without a Viscount.”

Lyn gives Hawke one of her best raised eyebrow looks before shaking her head at Anders.

“Well I see where your sense of humor went. Obviously this woman has it now.”

Mera can’t help but laugh as Anders looks wounded in response to Lyn’s comment. 

“My sense of humor is still my own, it’s just that Justice keeps it from showing all that much.”

As soon as Justice’s name leaves Anders’ lips he freezes, realizing his mistake. He’d gotten so used to Mera and the others knowing about his condition that he’d forgotten Vaelyn didn’t know. With an audible gulp he tries to meet the elf’s gaze, but can’t quite manage it. 

“Uh oh.”

Mera couldn’t help but say what had flashed across her mind. The air around Vaelyn seems to have gotten rather chilly, and her face seems to be made of granite. Her grey eyes seem to flash as she steps up close to the blond apostate, stopping only once they are practically touching. 

“Justice, Anders? Perhaps you should tell me exactly what is going on. Now.”

Mera is suddenly wishing for a bowl of popcorn and a comfy chair to sit in, but contents herself with sitting on the edge of the examination table and petting Doug’s head. Normally when confronted in such a way Anders would become big and scary, but in this case the short elven woman seems to be the big and scary one. Vaelyn just keeps standing there, in Anders’ face, looking up her pointed nose, waiting for his reply. Anders starts to answer and even gets as far as opening his mouth before chickening out, and snapping it shut again. Seconds lengthen into minutes and still the elf doesn’t move, her chin stuck out in dogged determination. Mera bets Vaelyn’s gaze must feel like hot iron pokers boring into Anders’ brain, poor bastard, she would fight the Arishok again rather then switch places with him at this moment.

“Justice and I are one. He wished to help me fight the injustice against mages. I agreed to let him inhabit my body.”

Anders’ voice is barely more then a whisper at first, but strengthens as he continues to speak, conviction evident in every word. Mera can’t quite tell whether the Warden-Commander is angry or not, as her face doesn’t seem to alter much as Anders confesses. Vaelyn looks him in the eyes once more before turning away, and walking over to the desk. She turns her back to the others and braces her hands on the desktop, tension evident in the very way she stands. The continuing silence becomes deafening, and Mera watches as Anders stays still, shifting his weight from one foot to the other occasionally. Mera is tempted to break the silence with one of her witty comments, but the little voice in the back of her mind makes her keep her tongue still. 

“You know, I always knew you’d take a dangerous path, but I never dreamed you’d be so sodding foolish. Anders, what have you done to yourself? And what have you done to Justice?”

Vaelyn’s voice is full of emotions, the most prominent one being sadness. Anders had been expecting anger, or even fear, from Lyn, but not this quiet sort of hurt. He knew how to defend himself from the first two, but not this. Even Justice seems to feel her disappointment. They’d both served under Vaelyn, but she had never been just their Commander, she’d been a dear friend and the closest thing Anders had had to family in a long time. That’s why, if he was honest with himself, he’d never completely believed that she’d turned him over to the templars. His answer comes slowly.

“I did what I had to. We agreed that with his help I could make a difference. You came from the Circle, you were dragged away from your family like I was. Wouldn’t you do anything to stop any young mage from having to go through that horror as well? What about the Harrowing? How many friends did we lose to that barbaric practice? Will you just continue to stand by and let our people continue to be persecuted?”

As the Anders lets the last sentence leave his mouth, Vaelyn spins around and levels an angry finger at him. 

“Don’t you dare pretend to know what I have and haven’t done. You only know what I chose to tell you. I do not need to justify myself and my actions to you. Especially you. You ran, Anders. You ran and left me to clean up another one of your messes. Have you really changed into a paragon of mage freedom? Or am I right in guessing that Hawke is now cleaning up your messes in my place?"

Wow, Mera really has no intention of coming to Anders’ defence on this one. Vaelyn has only known her for less than a day and seems to have picked up on the gist of Mera’s relationship with Anders. Fenris had even argued the same point once, saying the only reason Anders was her friend was because she had the power to protect him and clean up the apostate’s problems. Those sentiments aren't completely fair, as the situation is a lot more complicated than that, but still the ring of truth is there.

“That’s not true! Hawke is my friend-”

“Oh no you don’t, I’m not finished yet. It is not your turn to speak.”

Vaelyn steps forward, lowering her hand but squaring her shoulders. Anders steps back in response, alarm evident in his eyes. He’s never seen this side of the elf before. He’d heard Oghren tell stories about the true depths of her temper, but hadn’t believed them.

“If you think back through that cloudy memory of yours, you’ll remember me constantly telling anyone who wished to listen that the way the Circle handles mages needs to change. Who was about to be condemned for trying to help an apprentice escape the tower rather than be made tranquil? Who was the first person to get a dwarf admission into the Circle’s ranks? Who stood up to the templars and even had the King step in, in order to keep them from cutting your insolent head from your neck? Who asked for the Circle to be freed from the Chantry’s rule? ANSWER ME!”

With each question, Anders flinches as if Lyn’s words are physically lashing at him. A pained look covers his face but it doesn’t stop Lyn from continuing her tirade. Mera would have never thought that someone could get Anders to look so much like a scolded child. Vaelyn lets the final words leave her lips in a roar, and waits for Anders to answer her, grey eyes flashing. 

“You.”

Anders’ answer is barely a whisper and he won’t meet Lyn’s eyes again, which seems to irritate her even more. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you...”

Lyn’s expression narrows as she moves her gaze to intercept Anders’. 

“You. You did those things... I’m sorry, Lyn.”

“You’re damn right you are sorry! I sacrificed any chance I had at being truly happy in order to protect my country and my people and I’m not just talking about elves or mages, and those are just the things publicly known, I did a lot of things that could have gotten me in trouble when I was a young mage. Just because you let yourself become possessed by a spirit from the fade does not make you more right than anyone else. Do you think Justice was the first fade spirit to notice the way mages are treated?”

Vaelyn’s question catches both Mera and Anders by surprise, and their faces show it. Lyn takes note of their expressions and throws her hands up in the air in a show of frustration.

“That’s right, you heard me. I’ve talked to more then one fade spirit. I’ve also talked to plenty of demons, a few ghosts, rhyming trees, and more than one possessed statue. Anders is also not the first mage I’ve known who’s been possessed by a friendly fade spirit.”

“I’m not?”

“Of course not, you idiot. Did you never pay attention to anything I said? Andraste’s ass! A spirit of Faith possessed Wynne, you do remember her, right? That spirit saved her from a demon and went on to help her save my life more than once.”

Neither Anders or Mera seem to have anything to say, causing Vaelyn to let out a sigh and rub a now throbbing temple with the knuckles of her right hand. Her head hurts, partially because she hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in two weeks. She would happily berate Anders for the rest of the day, but it wouldn’t change anything. 

“Look, if you can help find Beth, that would be great. If you can’t, I’ll take care of things on my own. When you left, I stopped being your Commander and I will not force you to do anything against your will.”

Anders looks closely at his hands, then speaks, “I’ll talk to my contacts and see what I can do.”

“Thank you. But I want to be clear about something. I am not here on any official capacity. Wardens are supposed to stay out of politics. I am here on my own time, to help my friend, nothing more. As far as anyone knows I am not here, and I’d like it to stay that way.”

“I understand.”

Lyn gives Anders a nod and turns her attention to Mera.

“Hawke, I have a few other things to take care of, including finding somewhere to take a bath. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take myself off and leave you here.”

“No problem. Why don’t you meet me back at the estate for dinner? I’m sure Orana will whip up something delicious for us.”

“Alright, see you then.”

Lyn turns, and doesn’t look back, walking out the door but making sure to shut it behind her. Mera waits a few moments before turning to give Anders an expectant look. Anders looks back at her with a lingering sadness. He can’t help but feel a bit ashamed of himself. He never expected to see Vaelyn again, let alone have her tear him down like that, in front of Hawke to boot. 

Mera breaks the awkward silence,  
“So apparently you’ve skipped telling me a lot about your past. You never told me that the Hero of Ferelden saved you from templars, or that she was the one who gave you your cat. Starting to regret not telling me now?”

Anders avoids eye contact and fidgets with a loose thread on the hem of his coat. Mera crosses her arms and waits. 

“I’m sorry Hawke. It just didn’t seem relevant until now. I left that life behind me when I left Ferelden, and the Wardens.”

Anders sneaks a peek at his friend and is once again blown away by how attractive he finds her. He had liked her the moment she’d walked into his clinic all those years ago. He’d tried every trick he knew to get her attention, but had she never let their relationship progress further than friendship. And then that damned mage hating elf had shown up. Mera had fallen for his brooding and fancy tattoos like an Orlesian for fancy parties, or ao he liked to tell his pride. The worst had been when Fenris had left her, Anders had shown up to comfort her and she’d still not acknowledged that Anders was willing to do anything she asked of him. No, she’d stayed alone, and waited for the escaped slave. And now they were back together, and Anders felt more alone then ever.

“Well, what’s done is done now. No need to rehash it. Just see what you can find out about this mage, Beth, and then let me know tonight at dinner. You better not start any fights tonight, or I’ll make you babysit Merrill next time she leaves her house.”

Anders gives Mera a small smile in response to her threat, which makes her smile back, the skin around her bright blue eyes crinkling briefly. She gives him a saucy wink, and then makes her way toward the doors with Douglas following. Before slipping out the door, Mera gives Anders a goodbye wave. He lifts a hand to return her wave, but she’s already gone.


	7. Chapter 7

-Chapter 7-

“I couldn’t help but notice there was a lot of raised voices, care to share what happened in there?”

Vaelyn has to give Oghren some credit, he’d stayed silent for almost an hour, even though she was sure that his curiosity had been eating away at him ever since they’d left Anders’ clinic. Oghren is the only person other than Alistair who knows almost everything about her. They’d been friends for a long time now, and even though they were an unlikely pair, they’d become family. Oghren had mellowed a little bit these last few years, he didn’t drink quite as much and took time to visit Felsi and their daughter every couple of months. 

“I yelled at Anders. That’s the gist of it. I’ll give you all the details some other time.”

“I’m guessing that he’ll still help us, despite your temper tantrum.”

“Yes, he’s going to get in touch with his contacts. And it wasn’t a tantrum, more like righteous anger.”

Oghren snorts and gives Lyn a “whatever you say” look. The pair walk on in companionable silence with Dane the hound, all the way back to Hightown. It takes a lot of talking to random strangers, but Lyn finally finds a bathhouse and gets her long awaited bath. With that settled, they hit the marketplace to browse and sell the few things they’d picked up on their way to Kirkwall. 

Lyn listens carefully to all the gossip and takes note that the general populace seems to be always talking about the mages or the templars. She and Oghren seem to go mostly unnoticed, as there seems to be almost as many dwarves and elves as there are humans in this city. Upon the completion of her purchases, she gives Oghren a nod and they set off back towards Hawke’s estate in a round about way, exploring the alleyways, nooks, and crannies of the upper-city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is all I have for now, although I do want to finish it!


End file.
